


bad to do

by adeleblaircassiedanser, fucktherights



Series: this could be easy [1]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Banter, Casual Sex, Drunk Sex, F/M, Feminization, First Time, Friends With Benefits, Hand Jobs, Infidelity, Kissing, Lingerie, M/M, Mild Voyeurism, Rookies, Semi-consensual infidelity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-16
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-05 12:12:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13387551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adeleblaircassiedanser/pseuds/adeleblaircassiedanser, https://archiveofourown.org/users/fucktherights/pseuds/fucktherights
Summary: Willie's mind is already on Auston, and the game, so he’s not surprised to find himself thinking about those four fucking goals again. He’s drunk enough not to think too hard about the fact that he’s jerking off thinking about his teammate’s dick trick.Dick trick, ha.





	1. what's easy

**Author's Note:**

> This is the culmination of a LOT of chatficcing over the last few months, and we are thrilled to finally present SOMETHING from us for this pairing. (Why is this a rare pair wtf tbh???) More detailed content warnings in the end notes, because they may be spoilery. Thanks to @frecklebombfic for a very quick, thorough beta as always. Chapter title from "Oats We Sow" by Gregory and the Hawk.

When they stumble into Auston’s house that night, they’re a little giddy, and more than a little drunk. Sure, they lost, but Auston scored _four goals_ in his _first-ever NHL game,_ and Willie had assisted on two of them, and that’s worth celebrating. So they had. With shots. The whole team had been out with them, but they’d all made noises about having ‘people waiting for them at home’ and being ‘tired’ and stupid shit like that. Even Mitch had ignored their booing him and gotten into an Uber home by himself. 

“Want a beer, bro?” Auston says over his shoulder, crossing the room to flick the lights on and heading into the kitchen.

“Yeah, sure,” Willie calls after him, and flops onto the couch after turning on the XBox. He’s got a controller in hand and the Call of Duty start screen up by the time Auston comes back in, shirtless and holding two beers. Willie resolutely ignores the shirtless part and takes his beer, swigs from it and puts it down on the coffee table before starting the game and giving it his full, if inebriated, attention.

Willie’s not a huge fan of CoD, and Auston is particularly bad at it, _and_ they’re both drunk, so the game’s a bit of a mess. Auston misses an easy shot and gets himself killed, and Willie smirks at him. “You’d think after scoring four goals in one game, you’d have better hand-eye coordination than that, that was pathetic.”

“That’s the third time tonight you’ve chirped me about that. Quit riding my dick so hard, Willie.” Auston shoves Willie’s shoulder with his own big, bare one, and Willie scoffs and shoves back to hide his flushed cheeks, because- listen, it’s not every day your hot new teammate has a game like that, and maybe he’s a little fixated on it, but still. Fuck off, Matts.

The shoving devolves into wrestling, and they tumble off the couch onto the floor. Willie lands on his front, and Auston immediately gets the upper hand, shoving a knee into Willie’s back and pinning his wrists to the floor. Willie strains against Auston’s grip, but Auston puts more of his substantial weight into his hands, and Willie’s thoroughly trapped. His dick twitches against the hardwood, but Auston doesn’t need to know that.

“You give?”

“Yeah, fine, I give,” Willie huffs, his breathing restricted between Auston’s weight and the floor. Auston lets go, flops onto the floor next to him with a big smile and a triumphant “Ha!”

Willie, still flushed and still half-hard, stays where he is. “I’m so drunk, dude.”

“Wanna crash here? We have a guest room,” Auston offers, and Willie decides he really doesn’t want to Uber home drunk and exhausted and horny.

He follows Auston down the hall, feeling loose and sleepy and a little overheated. Once Auston shuts the door on his way out, he strips off his shirt and sweats, drags the blankets down, and falls into bed in his underwear. The feeling of Auston’s hands on his wrists hasn’t totally faded yet, and he rubs them where they’re still a little tender. _Maybe they’ll bruise,_ his brain supplies, and that gives him chills and makes his dick twitch again, so he drags a hand down over his stomach and rubs himself through his briefs.

He gets hard fast, after the adrenaline rush of their season opener and the wrestling match with Auston, and after a minute he pulls the waistband down past his balls, plays with them while he fists his cock.

His mind is already on Auston, and the game, so he’s not surprised to find himself thinking about those four fucking goals again. He’s drunk enough not to think too hard about the fact that he’s jerking off thinking about his teammate’s dick trick. _Dick trick, ha_ , he thinks to himself, and half-giggles through his arousal.

He replays the goals in his head: his own assist on the fourth, the massive roar from the crowd when they realized what had just happened, that they had just witnessed history being made; the hats littering the ice after the third, when Mo set Auston up with a phenomenal pass from behind the net; the second one, where he walked it through Hoffman’s legs, and then Karlsson’s- _Karlsson’s-_ with some of the craziest stick work Willie’s ever seen…

 _Stick work,_ he giggles again. Man, he’s drunk. And hard. So hard, fuck.

He pictures that play, the way Auston had moved, such soft hands and agile footwork. Thinks about how smooth he looked, his skating, his stick handling, his laser-focused expression. Thinks about his big, thick body taking Willie into the boards with him for the celly after, how it had knocked the wind out of him a little.

Willie’s close, really fucking close, when the door opens and Auston says, “Hey, brought you some towels for-”

“Oh, shit,” Willie spits, rolling from his back to his side and yanking the sheet up over his hips so his hard dick is hidden from view. He thinks he must look ridiculous, his back to the door in the fetal position fumbling with the tangled fabric, a thought that’s proved right when he hears-

“Dude, what the fuck are you doing?” Auston sounds amused, not off-put, which is a relief. Willie can handle amused. He looks over his shoulder and sees Auston smirking at him, one eyebrow raised.

“Uh, you could knock before you come in, Matts.”

Auston takes a swig from the beer he’s holding and swallows. Willie watches his Adam’s apple bob and feels his cock throb impatiently. 

“Dude, it’s my house. What, are you in here, like, jerking off over me or something?” Auston chuckles, and Willie tries to sound flippant when he spits back “fuck off,” but he feels his cheeks betray him, hot blood rushing to his face.

Auston notices. Of fucking course he does. His eyes go wide in the loaded silence, and then- Willie blinks a couple times, because there’s no way Auston’s really pressing the heel of his hand to his crotch right now. There’s no way.

He is, though. His face is unreadable, as always, eyes vacant, but his hand is definitely subtly pushing down on the front of his sweats. And then he laughs again, that little fake-laugh he does in interviews, pulls his hand away and tries to play it off. 

“Four goals was pretty cool, but I’m not sure it warrants jerking off, Will.” He sounds casual but his cheeks are red, and his dick is a definite bulge in his pants. He turns like he’s gonna go, and Willy reacts without thinking.

“Just the second one.”

Auston stops, turns halfway back. “What?”

Willie blushes harder, which shouldn’t even be possible. “Uhh. It was just the second goal. When you walked it through Karlsson’s legs. That one was filthy.”

Auston’s eyes widen again, which, for him, is basically a massive emotional display. He takes a step toward the bed, towards Willie. “Are you, like… fucking with me?”

Willie holds Auston’s eyes for a second, tries to gauge his facial expression. Auston’s cheeks are pink, he looks a little hesitant, but he doesn’t break eye contact. Willie decides _fuck it_ , and shifts onto his back again so his dick, still somehow mostly hard, tents the sheet.

“No, uhh. I’m not.” Willie smiles, the sweet-and-sexy smile he uses on girls in bars. Auston presses his hand against his crotch again and bites his lip, then closes the distance to the bed and sets his beer down on the nightstand. He drops down next to Willie, which dislodges the sheet and exposes Willie’s cock again, but a second later Auston’s pulled the waistband of his sweats down and gripped his own half-hard dick, so apparently there’s no need for modesty now anyway.

“Tell me what you were thinking,” Auston says, and Willie tears his eyes away from Auston’s cock long enough to look up and find Auston staring at him.

“Yeah?” Willie’s dick gets even harder in his hand.

“Yeah.”

“Fuck, okay,” he breathes, tilting his head back to look at the ceiling, because he can’t do this and watch Auston’s face at the same time. “Uhh, fuck, I was thinking about how you move, you know? Just… smooth.” He has to start moving his hand again, and he doesn’t have the presence of mind right now to make himself go slow. “Like watching someone dance, it’s just, you know. You think about how they might move in other ways, too.”

“Fuck, Will.” Auston shifts beside him, and because Willie is still pointedly staring at the ceiling, he jumps when he feels a hand on his hip. His eyes snap back to Auston, who’s staring at Willie’s cock, which twitches and blurts precome. “Can I- is this okay?”

Willie isn’t sure what he’s asking, because his brain is foggy with exhaustion and arousal and he’s not really sure if any of this is ok, but he breathes “Yeah, yes,” anyway. Which turns out to be the right answer, because Auston pushes Willie’s hand away, wraps his own huge hand around Willie’s leaking dick, and starts jerking him off. Holy fuck.

Willie fists his hands in the sheets, eyes glued to Auston’s hand, and bottom lip between his teeth. He tries and fails to bite back the noise he makes when Auston runs his thumb through the precome at the tip of his cock and spreads it over the head. He can hear Auston breathing heavily, can tell he’s touching himself with his free hand, can feel the heat where their shoulders and thighs are touching. He wants to look over and see what Auston’s face looks like, but he can’t tear his eyes away from how big Auston’s hand looks on his cock, how it almost totally envelops it, makes it look small, and that shouldn’t turn him on but it does. God it does.

He jumps again when he feels Auston grab his hand where it’s fisted in the sheets and pull it towards Auston’s dick. _Pushy,_ he thinks, but then he looks up at Auston’s face, and he looks… hungry. Determined. It’s the look he gets when he’s focused on a video game, or when he’s in the zone in practice, but now it’s got an added heat that’s definitely not there on the ice. When Willie wraps his hand around Auston’s cock, he looks like he wants to eat Willie alive. It’s so hot he feels dizzy with it.

He has to look away, can’t hold Auston’s eyes when Auston is looking at him like that, so he looks down at Auston’s cock, flushed and agonizingly thick in Willie’s hand. He squeezes the base experimentally and feels Auston’s rhythm on his cock stutter. Auston lifts his hips, fucks up into Willie’s grip, and speeds up his own hand, dragging his thumb over the head on every stroke, and Willie’s right back on the edge, as close now as he was when the door had opened. 

He chases it, stomach muscles clenching as he watches Auston fuck his fist, his tree-trunk thighs tense under his sweats. He bites his lip again, and it feels raw and bruised. It must look it, too, because Auston says, “Fuck, dude, your mouth,” and suddenly all Willie can think of is Auston’s cock in his mouth, stretching his lips and pushing into his throat, and he closes his eyes and comes all over Auston’s knuckles and his own stomach.

He’s winded, can’t catch his breath, his dick still twitching with aftershocks, but when he feels Auston’s come-covered fingers pressed against his lips he opens his mouth automatically. His hand had apparently gone lax on Auston’s cock when he came, because Auston wraps his other hand around Willie’s to tighten his grip as Willie licks his own come from between Auston’s fingers. He sucks on them lazily, swirls his tongue around, eyes still closed and still thinking about sucking Auston’s dick instead. He hears Auston groan “Fuck,” feels him get impossibly harder, and opens his eyes in time to see Auston’s head drop back and his eyes squeeze shut as he comes over both their hands.

“Fuck, dude,” Auston says, after a minute. 

“Yeah.”

It’s quiet for a bit, both of them coming down, until Willie’s back in his own head enough to realize that he’s mostly naked, covered in quickly-drying come, and in bed next to his teammate.

“Okay uhh, this is getting gross. Where are the towels, I’m gonna go shower.”

“They’re right there on the floor bro, that’s why I came in here in the first place,” Auston deadpans.

“Oh yeah, sorry, I was a little distracted at the time,” Willie snarks back at him. Auston laughs, tired but genuine, and Willie chuckles too on his way to the bathroom. By the time he’s rinsed off and back in the guest room, Auston’s already gone to bed.

So that’s the first time.

\---

The next three times take place, in order: in an airport bathroom, in a handicapped stall at PPG Paints Arena, and once on Auston’s hotel bed, while Mitch is purportedly in Marty’s room, or on the phone, or something. It’s quick every time, it’s hot every time, and it’s easy. 


	2. never gonna learn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s been at least a month since the last time Auston wanted to mess around, and they’ve definitely never made plans like this, hours in advance, a special trip to Auston’s place. Willie had deliberated over whether it would be weirder if this was or wasn’t a sex thing- what if Auston had wanted to talk or something? Yikes. Anyway, it’s clear now from the way Auston’s stupid drooly mouth has fallen open that Willie made the right call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi, this is a story called mimi got really impatient and is just gonna post this chapter!!! i don't love it but it's as good as i can get it right now tbh! title from "i want to love" by years and years. thanks again to frecklebomb for our beta. warnings for more drinking, some references to infidelity, and feminization, obviously. if i'm missing anything obvious please let me know! thank y'all for your response to the first chapter. really excited to finally be telling this story.

Willie’s a little surprised when Auston texts him to come over. It’s a Sunday in January, and they just lost to the Habs. 

“Hey,” Willie says when he gets inside the apartment. 

“Hey,” Auston says. “My dad’s still out of town, you want a beer?” 

“Sure,” Willie says, because why not. “Is anybody else- Mitch?” his voice trails off uncertainly. 

“Mitchy’s with his girlfriend,” Auston says, his tone giving nothing away. “You wanna play CoD?” 

“Not really,” Willie says honestly. It sounds pretentious to say out loud but he really does feel like he’s somewhat outgrown video games, at least most of the time. The last time he played CoD was with Auston, and if it’s up to him he’d rather skip to the more entertaining half of that evening's activities. 

“Okay,” Auston says, not seeming at all disappointed. He hands Willie an open beer. “Let’s just watch something.”

Auston has all the fancy movie channels, because of course he does, and they catch the last three quarters or so of _Mad Max_ , the new one. When the credits roll Willie looks up and finds that the sun had gone down at some point, and the living room is littered with empties and open snack bags.

“I’m gonna use the washroom,” Willie says. 

When he comes back, Auston has taken it upon himself to change to a _different_ pay channel. Willie doesn’t know why he lets anything this boy does surprise him anymore, but then his mouth drops open and waters a little when he registers what's onscreen. It’s porn, obviously, softcore stuff; a tiny redhead riding some nondescript guy, a lot of loud, sloppy kissing and super low, flattering golden lighting. As Willie gets closer to the couch, he sees that Auston is already hard in his jeans- the ridiculous ones, black with huge holes at both knees- there’s no call for those stupid jeans to look so hot, but Auston’s running the heel of his palm up and down his dick, leisurely, like he’s teasing himself. Or, maybe, like he’s waiting for something. He’s biting one side of his bottom lip. Willie’s getting hard so fast it feels like the room is spinning. There’s no way this isn’t a sign, right? Auston wouldn’t invite him over just for a one-on-one movie night between linemates on some random Sunday. Before he can second guess the instinct, Willie’s crossing the two foot distance to the couch and straddling Auston, sucking that swollen lip into his own mouth and licking Auston’s teeth lightly. He hears a hitch in Auston’s breath and rolls his hips down automatically before he freezes. 

They’ve never kissed before. No way that’s a coincidence, right? Willie pulls back- not panicking, exactly. Just checking. 

Auston pulls him back down and kisses him harder. He’s not actually the best kisser, is Willie’s first thought. Maybe the not kissing was less of a ‘no homo’ thing and more of an ‘I don’t know how to control my tongue and not slobber all over the other person, regardless of their gender, which is embarrassing’ thing. Willie smirks and pulls off to mouth at Auston’s huge neck, which is really hot on some level- the way Willie’s dick is twitching, it’s possible he has a secret buried Neanderthal fetish. Auston is just so _big_. 

“Don’t,” Auston says, “you know.”

“No marks, I got you,” Willie says. 

“Thanks,” Auston says, then threads his fingers through Willie’s hair as if to hold him in place over the left side of his throat, where Willie’s licking and scraping his teeth lightly. Auston makes quiet, breathy sounds as Willie trails up and down the cords and tendons of his neck, and after a minute he sighs and throws his head back onto the couch, like it feels too good to stay upright. 

_Fuck, that’s hot._ Willie pulls back to check his handiwork. It’s January, but even so Auston’s tan enough and Willie was careful enough that there should be no trace of where his mouth was within an hour or so. Willie feels a bittersweet satisfaction at that, and dips in to capture Auston’s lips again. This time he keeps it to quick, closed-mouth kisses, sucking gently and pulling away, making Auston chase him. 

“Come here,” Auston growls, and reaches for Willie’s shirt front to pull him closer. 

“No,” Willie says, taking the opportunity to climb out of Auston’s lap and shuck his shirt. He takes a second to grin at the look on Auston’s face before throwing the shirt at him and moving to unbutton his jeans, which have become incredibly uncomfortable. He’d thought maybe he was being presumptuous by going commando- it’s been at least a month since the last time Auston wanted to mess around, and they’ve definitely never made plans like this, hours in advance, a special trip to Auston’s place. Willie had deliberated over whether it would be weirder if this was or wasn’t a sex thing- what if Auston had wanted to _talk_ or something? Yikes. Anyway, it’s clear now from the way Auston’s stupid drooly mouth has fallen open that Willie made the right call. He steps out of his jeans and leans back in, stroking himself a little. 

“Fuck,” Auston says, grinning. 

“You wanna?” Willie’s not drunk, not properly, but four beers before dinner have definitely left him uninhibited. Mostly, though, he’s just horny. He was planning to go pick up after this if it had turned out to be some weird non-sexual rookie bonding thing, so there are condoms in his jean pocket. The fact that it’s Auston means he can get fucked for the first time in forever, which is even better. Willie reaches down and brandishes the foil packets, raising an eyebrow at Auston in challenge. 

“Holy shit,” Auston says, face blank. He pauses for a few seconds. “Do you want to take a shot?”

“Sure?” Willie says. “Never pregamed buttsex before, but new year, new me, I guess.” 

Auston gives a big, ugly laugh and pads over to some dusty cabinet. He pulls out a bottle of shitty vodka and a couple of shot glasses. He’s emptied his by the time Willie follows him to the side of the room and picks his glass up. 

“Listen, if you don’t want to-” Willie starts. 

“Fuck you,” Auston says, pouring himself another shot. “Bottoms up.” 

“Okay, hotshot.” Willie empties his shot glass and leans in again. Auston’s mouth tastes genuinely horrible. Willie is going to die if he doesn’t come soon. “Can you- a _little_ less tongue, dude?”

So that last drink seems to have killed what was left of Willie’s filter. Good to know. 

“Sorry,” Auston says, and he looks like he might even be blushing a little. 

“No big deal,” Willie says, grinding impatiently against Auston’s thigh. Somehow he’s still wearing his jeans and shirt, so it chafes a little. 

“Why am I the only one who’s naked,” Willie whines. 

“I dunno, bud,” Auston says. “Let’s- do you still- it’d be better on a bed, right?” He starts guiding Willie backwards, hands on both hips like some kind of kinky half-naked waltz. Willie mostly thinks he remembers where Auston’s room is, but Auston keeps leaning in and he’s finally grasping a bit of technique- just like Juicy, isn’t it, run a drill twice and he’s got it down- anyway, he’s become sort of a good kisser, and Willie is a little tipsy and distracted and walking backwards in somebody else’s house. Most of all, though, Auston should have cleaned his room before having people over. 

The point being, Auston kicks the door open behind them and they make it about two and a half steps into his bedroom before Willie steps on a flimsy cardboard box and eats shit. There’s a moment where he and Auston just look at each other before they both dissolve into giggles. 

“Auston,” Willie says after gasping for breath. “Matty, bud. Why is that a Victoria’s Secret box.” 

“Shit,” Auston says, trying to bite back his grin. “It’s not mine, you fucker.” He kicks the lid off, and the paper inside falls open to reveal a few pieces of pinkish lace. Maybe orangeish, Willie isn’t sure. Pretty stuff. Willie sort of can’t believe Auston is responsible for this. 

“Okay,” he says, drawing the word out slowly to make his disbelief really clear. “So whose is it?”

“Jordyn’s,” Auston says. “I mean, it was going to be her Christmas present.”

“Right,” Willie says, remembering Auston’s girlfriend’s name. She’d been around a bunch starting around fake American Thanksgiving, but she’d been gone in time for Auston to hook up with some other girl on New Year’s. Willie sort of wants to know what their deal is, but he also likes it not being his business or his problem. “So, uh. Why did you not. Give it to her. For Christmas?”

“Because fuck her,” Auston says darkly. It’s the most feeling he’s shown about anything all day. 

“Right,” Willie says again, trying to figure out how to direct Auston’s attention away from grumpiness and back towards fucking. 

“Hey,” Auston says, like he’s reading Willie’s mind. There’s sort of a flash, an intensity behind his eyes as he stares into Willie’s. “You should wear them.”

Willie’s throat goes dry, and he has to fight not to actually cough like a total cliche. “What?”

“Put them on. You forgot your underwear today, right?” Auston is smirking a little bit, but Willie gets the feeling he’s not actually chirping. Even worse, Willie’s dick, which had deflated some during the ten minutes he spent literally rolling on the floor laughing, has perked back up at this, the tone in Auston’s voice and the steady look as he waits for Willie’s response. 

“So you’re fully clothed, and you want me to put on your girlfriend’s Victoria’s Secret?” Willie aims for ‘incredulous’ but he’s not sure he gets there, tone-wise. 

“Why not? You have a way nicer ass than her anyway.” Willie can’t remember ever feeling this hot, suddenly flushed over every inch of his body, feeling so exposed and sort of afraid and vulnerable but also really, really fucking hard. He tilts his chin up almost unconsciously, and Auston reads him, gets down on his knees to kiss Willie softly, holding his jaw in one hand and reaching the other hand down to stroke Willie’s hard cock. 

“I’m not going to fit in there,” Willie warns him. “How much did you pay for that, fifty bucks? My ass is going to split it wide open.”

“Nah, it’s stretchy,” Auston says blithely. “Put them on. Please?”

Willie rolls his eyes. “Just the underwear, not that bra thing.”

“Fine.”

“And after this you fuck me? Finally?” 

“Yes, fine. Demanding much, dude?” 

“Oh, _I’m_ fucking demanding?” Willie tries to glare, but Auston just grins at him and his stomach flutters and if he doesn’t get a fucking orgasm after these five hours he’s going to take to murder or something. “Fine, just help me. I’m not drunk enough for this.”

Willie stands up and Auston helps him step into the tiny leg holes. Willie isn’t immediately sure he can even get them up past his calves, but as promised the material is stretchy. The position is reminiscent of a teammate helping you with your skates, or else of a fuck buddy getting ready to blow you. Willie’s dick is on board. Obviously, as he drags the panties up his thighs, hearing the elastic stretch to its breaking point, that is not a lot of help. He gives up with the waistband around his thighs and ass, his balls barely cradled in the crotch area, and his dick sticking out onto his stomach and leaking a little. 

Willie’s pretty sure he’s never blushed so hard in his life. It’s funny because a few months ago, when his teammate had walked in on him jacking off, he’d thought he was experiencing embarrassment, but in actuality he’s never experienced anything on the same plane of existence as he is now. Auston makes a sound. 

“Are you happy now?”

“Mhmm,” Auston hums, pushing Willie back onto his bed. 

“Will you at least take your clothes off? I feel like you’re going to pull a prank or something.” 

Auston takes his shirt off, which helps because Willie can distract himself by dragging a finger up and down his cock and admiring Auston’s shoulders and his arms and his tattoos and- “God, you’re hot,” Willie says out loud, because once you pick a theme for a night you should stick to it, and tonight’s theme is abject mortification. 

“Thanks,” Auston says, like a little shit. “You too.”

“Yeah?” Willie says without thinking about it. Stupidly, because he knows he’s hot. He’s never experienced this feeling before, but suddenly he really wants to hear that Auston knows it too. 

“Yeah, Will,” Auston says, stepping out of his jeans. They’re tight around his massive thighs, so it takes some doing, and it would be awkward to watch in any other context but Willie’s mouth is watering. “Look at you. So pretty for me, all dressed up in pink lace. You look like a doll, you know that? Pretty mouth, pretty eyes, pretty hair. You’re prettier than my girlfriend.” 

Willie knows he’s at least halfway chirping, but his dick adamantly does not care anymore. He bucks his hips up restlessly. “Do you have lube?” 

Auston blinks at him dumbly for a couple seconds. “Oh, yeah,” he says finally, and detours to the en suite bathroom. Willie takes the tube from him. 

“Do you care if I rip these? You said you were going to fuck me, eh?”

“Yeah, turn over,” Auston says, so Willie does, pressing his face into the sheets. Auston runs his hands up the backs of Willie's thighs, up over his ass where the lacy fabric is stretched tight, slides a finger under the elastic waistband that's digging into Willie's skin. "Fuck, Will," he mutters under his breath, and then rips open the whole back of the panties. The sound of the lace shredding sends another wave of arousal and embarrassment flooding through Willie's body and straight to his dick. Auston reaches down and tentatively runs his fingers over Willie’s hole. Willie shivers, then squirms impatiently. This is not his first time at the rodeo. Fuck’s sake. 

He uncaps the lube, squirts the slick onto his own fingers and jams one in. It hurts a little but it’s also a relief, a distraction from the constant throbbing of his dick and the feeling of being totally on display, a pretty thing for Auston’s amusement. He adds a second finger, curling up towards his prostate, and begins to regain hope that he will actually be having an orgasm sometime today. 

Auston grunts. “Can I-”

“No,” Willie says impatiently. “You’re way too fucking slow. Just get ready.” He hands Auston the lube so he can slick himself up, and gives himself a third finger. 

Honestly, looking over his shoulder at Auston’s cock, he should wait and do four fingers, really take his time. Fuck it, though, it’s their bye week, nobody will notice if he can’t walk tomorrow. 

“Ohh,” Auston breathes out, sounding strung out and needy with one hand on himself. 

“Don’t get that fucking ready! If you come before you fuck me, douchebag-”

“I won’t,” Auston says, squeezing the base of his cock. “I got you. You just look- really good.”

“Thanks,” Willie says, grinning helplessly in spite of himself. This is maybe the weirdest sex he’s ever had. Why had the entire two hours of action movie been necessary as foreplay? Had Auston walked him into the lingerie trap on purpose? How had he managed to put the condom on without Willie noticing? Why is Willie still so hard? “When are you going to make me come?”

“Now,” Auston says. “You should get on top.”

Willie blinks a couple times, his brain mostly offline. “Why?”

“What’s the point of you being topless if I can’t see your tits?” Auston smirks, reaching out to run a hand over Willie’s chest. Willie arches into his touch thoughtlessly, nipples pebbling. He should probably think of some jokey, casual response to say. 

“Oh,” he says finally. “Okay.” He’d made the mistake of pulling his fingers out more than one second before Auston’s dick was ready to replace them, and now he’s so achingly empty that he can’t think about anything else. 

“Shhh,” Auston says, “come here, I got you,” which is when Willie realizes he’s been making a deeply embarrassing, impatient noise as he rolls his hips ineffectually against the sheets. 

Auston lays out on his back, and Willie straddles him again. He hears the rip in the back of the panties getting wider as he leans in to kiss him, first on the mouth and then over the sharp line of his collarbone. 

“Fuck, I can feel it,” Auston says. 

“Feel what?”

“The lace, a little bit. Shit, that’s hot.” He reaches down to pull his balls back a little, like maybe he’s worried about coming already. Willie feels dizzy with power as he lifts himself up, lines up the blunt tip of Auston’s cock with his hole. 

It’s hard to relax and bear down. Everything feels really sensitive. Auston’s trying to keep still, but he’s twitching and almost vibrating, like he’s not in control of his own responses, and his dick keeps slipping away from Willie's hole before he can get the head in. His breaths are sounding more like wheezes with every passing second. 

“Willie, please,” Auston says, dragging Willie down to slide his slicked-up ass along the line of his cock. It feels good, but it sets Willie back from the ultimate goal, which is getting fucked, not letting Auston rub off against his tailbone. 

“Working on it,” Willie says irritably. “Tell me again how pretty I am.”

“So fucking pretty,” Auston says. “Fuck. Perfect.” He reaches up a hand and toys with one of Willie’s nipples, pinches it. That feels good and Willie relaxes, finds the angle, finally slides down a couple inches. The combination of sensations is overwhelming. 

“So full,” Willie says dazedly, staring up at the ceiling and starting to rock his hips a little, grinding down further until his ass hits Auston's hips, the shredded lace caught between them. 

“Shit, shit, wait,” Auston says. “Stop moving.”

“What?” Willie says incredulously. He stops, though, and looks down at Auston's face. 

Auston’s eyes are closed, and he’s taking deep breaths like his shift just ended or something. “Sorry,” he says. “I’m not gonna last, though. You can’t move.”

“Are you fucking serious?”

“Yeah,” Auston says. “Let me do you first, because if you move I’m going to go off in two seconds.” 

Willie wants to be mad, but instead he finds that despite a shameful paucity of actual attention being paid to his cock this evening, this revelation of Auston’s desperation is getting him there, too. “Fine,” he concedes, and manages to sound sufficiently snarky even when breathless and stuffed full of Auston's cock. “Give me your hand, and keep talking.”

“What do you want me to talk about?” Auston gets his hand on Willie’s hard-on, finally, and even though it’s been a while he’s getting the grip and speed just about the way Willie likes it. 

“Tell me again how pretty I am. How I’m too hot for you to fuck me properly,” Willie says, smirking and reaching to pinch one nipple. “Tell me you like watching me play with my tits.”

“Yeah, shit,” Auston agrees, his hips still twitching like they’ve got a mind of their own. “Your tits are so pretty, wanna put you in that bra to match your panties, you're so, so pretty," Auston babbles, his voice breathy and higher-pitched than Willie's ever heard it before. "God, you're so tight, Will, I’m so fucking close, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t you dare,” Willie says. “This was all your stupid idea. You’re going to make me come first.”

“Okay,” Auston says, fumbling for the lube and dribbling some over Willie’s cock and his own stomach. 

“That’s kind of cheating,” Willie breathes, “but I’ll allow it.”

“Come here,” Auston says, and then groans when his cock shifts inside Willie as he obeys, leaning down to kiss him again as Auston’s hand works his cock between their bodies. “So hot, baby.” 

Willie can't help it, his hips rock down forcefully at the pet name, and they both cry out. Auston moves his mouth to Willie’s neck, his collarbone. Willie’s pretty sure he’s whining perpetually now, one long desperate noise. He wants something in his mouth, Auston’s fingers or something, but he can’t find the words, so he settles for biting hard on his bottom lip. 

“Just like that, baby,” Auston says. “Fuck yeah. Come for me.” Willie can feel it start to build everywhere, his skin still warm all over, his thighs starting to shake. Auston rubs his thumb over the wetness at the tip of his cock again, and Willie keens and spills all over both their bodies. 

He takes a few seconds to rest before Auston starts fidgeting.

“Okay, okay, Mr. Hair Trigger,” Willie says, sitting back up. He’s a little over-sensitive now after coming, so he slides up and down slowly. Auston’s making noises like he’s dying. 

For how close he’d seemed a minute ago, Auston seems to take forever to come- maybe fifteen or twenty reps of Willie lifting almost all the way off and sliding back down to the hilt. By the time Auston arches forward, screwing up his face and squeezing bruises into Willie’s hips, Willie’s abs and thighs are killing and his dick has gone mostly soft. He rolls off of Auston, feeling wrung out and good and dirty and pretty and good. He wriggles out of the panties, drags them through the mess on his stomach in a half-assed cleanup attempt, and tosses them on the floor. 

“Thanks,” Auston says after a minute.

“Um,” Willie says, giggling, “you’re welcome? Thank you too?”

“Sorry, out of it,” Auston says, throwing an arm over his face. 

“You’re not going to tell anybody, right? About the-” Willie’s not really worried, but he feels he ought to ask to keep up appearances, because maybe he’s not as embarrassed about this as he should be. 

“No, no, I wouldn’t,” Auston promises. “Nobody needs to know any of this, really. It doesn’t have to be a huge deal.”

Willie holds up a hand and kicks Auston lightly in the leg until he makes eye contact. They high five. “To keeping it simple.” 

Auston cracks a smile. “You can sleep here, if you want,” he offers.

“Okay,” Willie says. “I want a shower, though.”

\---

They don’t hook up again that spring, which is maybe a little disappointing, but not that weird. The schedule for the back half of the season is punishing, and like everyone else on the team Willie’s exhausted all the time. He barely finds time to jerk off most days. 

Around the time they clinch their playoff spot, Auston mentions offhandedly to Mitch and Naz in the locker room that he and his girl have worked something out. It sounds sort of weird and complicated to Willie, but the gist seems to be that Auston is going to continue to pick up in the exact same way he always has, whenever Jordyn’s not in town, but now they’re going to be “open” about it. 

“And she’s cool with that?” Mitch says, sounding fascinated and a little impressed. 

“I guess so,” Auston says, not sounding particularly worried one way or the other. “I mean, it makes no sense otherwise. Like it’s fine for the summer, when I’m there, but it’s just been stupid this year, her in LA and me everywhere else. It’ll be easier this way.”

"I don't know, dude," Naz counters, shaking his head. "My girl would never go for that... Or if she did, it'd be like, a test or something. Just watch your back, Juice."

\---

First, they get knocked out of the playoffs, which fucking sucks. Then the lease on Willie and Kappy’s place is up, and he and Annika are apparently talking about living together, or something. Willie’s agent wants to hold off on signing a new contract until the new season, so Willie is advised against signing another lease. He doesn’t really care either way. It’ll be good to get home, see family, speak Swedish. Obviously Worlds are going to be huge. And if he thinks about Auston occasionally when he jerks off, if he vaguely misses him a little, it doesn't really matter- it gets buried under other, more important things by the next morning. The advantage to a shitty postseason is a long summer- he’ll figure something out. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> to be continued!

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: mild ableist language, explicit language, boys being callous and insensitive, consensual sex under the influence of alcohol. Implied infidelity in upcoming installments.


End file.
